The Dark Noir: The Third Chapter
by BeckyBoo12221
Summary: Third in the Dark Noir series read Chapers One and Two first. Erika Noir and Harry Potter thought it was going to be a quiet year at Hogwarts school, that's until Harry's name came out the goblet of fire entering him into a know to be fatal competition
1. The Surprise

**Disclaimer for WHOLE story: I don't own anything J. K Rowling does *Sigh***

_The Dark Noir: The Third Chapter.  
Chapter 1: The Surprise  
_

Erika Noir was sitting in her bed room waiting for her boyfriends, Harry Potter's owl to come to her, she had sent Harry an owl a couple of days ago and still hadn't had anything back. She stood up when she heard the doorbell go, she ran to the top of the stairs to see her mother with her mouth hanging open looking at the grinning man standing in the door frame.

"Hello luv, Miss me?" he asked, Hailey Noir, threw herself at the man and began to kiss him. Erika turned away she really didn't need to watch her parents kissing on the doorstep. Erika's father was Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer and killer of Peter Pettigrew, well that's what most of the wizarding world thought, really, yes he had tried to kill Pettigrew, but Pettigrew had sold Lily and James Potter, Harry's parents, to Voldemort. Sirius had cornered him and was going to kill him when Peter set off a curse that killed thirteen Muggles; and he cut his finder off and changed into a rat so every one would think he was dead.

"Sirius what are you doing here?" Hailey asked once she pulled back and shut the front door.

"Came to see you didn't I, you and Erika" he said, Erika smiled; she hurried down the stairs and into her dads arms. He held onto her for a while, and then held her at arm's length.

"Now did you get my present?" he asked, Erika grinned at him.

"Yeah, I got it" she said. Sirius had sent Erika a necklace, it had a silver chain. On it were three pendants, one a black dog another a golden retriever and the last was a white owl. They represented Erika and her parents, Hailey never told Erika but she was an animagus like Sirius, she was a golden retriever, Hailey had also been helping Erika with her powers more and they had found out that Erika's animagus for would be a white owl. She was wearing the necklace then.

"You're wearing it" Sirius said, touching it.

"Of course I am. I love it" Erika said. Sirius grinned at her.

"I can't stay long, but I was wondering If I could borrow an owl to send a letter to Harry" he said, Erika's eyes lit up. "I'll take that as a yes" he said, Erika nodded and run up stairs to get parchment, quill and ink for her father. Sirius put his arms round Hailey's waist and hugged her.

"I'm sorry, I've been gone" he said, Hailey leant back into him.

"It wasn't your fault" she told him. "It was Wormtail's, anyway how are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm doing ok, keeping out of the public eye, seeing Remus every so often and I come here other than that I'm on the run from the ministry" Sirius said; Erika came running back down the stairs.

"I've got the stuff dad" she called, Sirius smiled at her.

"Thanks love" he said. "But I'm going to need an _owl _to send it" he said giving Erika a big wink. Erika gasped.

"Really you'll let me" she asked, Sirius nodded.

"That's if it's ok with your mother?" he asked, looking at Hailey who had raised an eye brow.

"You two think too much alike" she complained "What is it?" she asked.

"Can I take the letter to Harry?" Erika asked, Hailey sighed.

"I suppose only if you give him the letter say hello and leave. And his relatives aren't allowed to know you are there, ok" she said firmly, Erika nodded. Sirius smiled at them both.

"I'll run under you for a while, to make sure you're fine, and then I'll come back here and wait with your mother" he said.

Erika waited until Sirius had written the letter before she changed into a white owl with slight red highlights in her feathers; she hooted and turned her head looking at herself.

"Yes sweetheart you look very nice" Hailey said, "I'll open the window for you" Erika hooted again and waited for her father to give her the letter. Sirius held it out for her and she grabbed it in her beak, she started flapping her wings and she took off the table.

"Ready to go?" Sirius asked. Erika gave a muffled hoot. "Good let's go" he said and changed into a dog. He barked and the two of them left the house. Erika flew low for a while until she got the hang of it then, Sirius had stopped and turned round, she flew up higher into the clouds and kept going towards Surrey.

* * *

She eventually came towards Little Whinging, it was night time by now and Erika was getting slightly tired. She looked around before she was another white owl heading her way, she sighed it was Hedwig; Hedwig came up to Erika and hooted she turned and flew down; Erika followed her getting her idea. Erika saw Hedwig fly into a window where a black messy haired green eyed be speckled boy was looking out off. Erika flew faster towards her boyfriend wanting to see him. Harry opened the window for her and Erika flew in, she flapped around the room for a minute, keeping quiet so Harry wouldn't get in trouble.

"Stay still, you annoying bird, I want the letter" Harry said trying to grab Erika, eventually he did Erika dropped the letter and nibbled his ear affectionately. "Yes, thank you, go on have a drink with Hedwig" he said, Erika hooted softly and had a drink. She looked at Hedwig who was watching her closely; Erika thought to determine whether she was going to be any threat to her master. Erika hooted at her and Hedwig hooted back and looked at Harry, then Erika. As if to say 'show him who you are'. Erika hooted. Harry was now sitting on his bed reading the letter; Erika flew over to his shoulder and read the letter as well.

_Harry,_

_I'm sending this letter express delivery, also because this owl was getting very bored.  
Now I've been meaning to write to you for a while, but there's been nothing to write about,  
oh well, anyway are you going to the Quidditch world cup?  
Erika is; Hailey agreed with Mr and Mrs Weasley that she could go;  
I'm sure that you will be able to or I'll come to the Muggles house and give them a scare.  
Right, I've got to go now, the owls getting impatient, say hello to Erika for me and tell the owl I won't be there when it gets home._

_-Sirius._

Harry looked at the letter for a moment how on earth was he meant to say hello to Erika, when Sirius had probably seen her more than him. Harry looked at the White owl with red tinges and stroked it.

"Impatient are you?" he said "Not that much to me, anyway Sirius isn't going to be there when you get back" Erika hooted. "I haven't had a letter from Erika yet" he sighed. "Do you think she's forgotten about me?" he asked, Hedwig who hooted and looked at Harry with her big amber eyes. "Oh, I don't know anyway Hedwig you left then came straight back, go hunting" he said, Hedwig hooted and flew out the window. Harry flopped down on his bed.

"All alone now" He said, Erika flittered over to him and snuggled up to him. Harry looked down at the owl. "What are you doing why aren't you going out hunting?" he asked, Erika kept looking at him. Harry shook his head and got into bed. "Leave when you want" he muttered before falling asleep. Erika went up onto Hedwig's stand and fell asleep.

She was waked up by Harry picking her up.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked, Erika hooted. "Sirius didn't give me you to keep, you've got to go home" Harry said. Erika hooted again. "Well whilst you're here can you give me any ideas on how I say hello to Erika?" he asked, Erika gave him a look. "Great now if only you could write" he said grumpily. Erika, had decided she wasn't going to change back until Harry had figured out it was her, at this rate it could be a while. Erika had an idea though, she saw a picture of herself, Harry, Ron and Hermione on Harry's bed side table, and she flew over to it and picked it up.

"Come on put it down" Harry said, Erika hooted at him and dropped it in his hands. She landed on the frame and looked from the picture to Harry and moved her talon over herself. "Yes that's Erika, what about-?" he looked at Erika wide eyed. "Erika? Are you Erika?" he asked, Erika hooted and changed back, she stood in front of Harry grinning.

"Took you long enough" she said, Harry grabbed her for a hug, but Erika had other plans and gave him a sound kiss.

"I've missed you" Harry said putting his forehead to hers.

"And I've missed you, by the way can you go to the Quidditch world cup?" she asked, Harry sighed.

"I don't actually know, I'm waiting for an owl off Ron" Harry said just as an over excited owl flew through the window.

"Are you sure you're not a seer?" Erika asked as tried to calm the owl down.

"Pretty sure" Harry said and picked the letter up that had been dropped at his feet.

_Harry – DAD GOT THE TICKETS – Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night.  
Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay.  
They might already have the letter; I don't know how fast muggle post it.  
Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway.  
We're coming for you whether the Muggle like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup,  
only Mum and Dad reckon its better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes,  
send Pig back with your answer back pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday.  
If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o'clock Sunday anyway.  
Hermione's arriving this afternoon and Erika is meeting us for the port-key with her mum.  
Percy's started work- the Department of International Magical Co-operation.  
Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you._

_See you soon-Ron_

"Calm down!" Erika was saying to the little owl.

"Come here, I need you to take my answer back" Harry said, 'Pig' fluttered down onto the top of Hedwig's cage and Hedwig looked up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer.

"I'll go with him to make sure, he actually gets it" Erika said, Harry nodded.

"Good, Idea, I think 'Pig' might get over excited." Harry said. Erika laughed, and then sighed.

"I've got to go" she said, Harry looked upset.

"Do you have to?" he asked, Erika smiled at him.

"Afraid so Don't worry I'll see you in a few days' time" She said before she gave him a kiss on the lips, "Give the letter to Pig after I've changed so I can stay near him, I'll say hi to everyone for you" she said, Harry nodded.

"Love you" he said, Erika smiled softly at him.

"Love you too" she said and changed back into the white owl with a slight tinge of red to her feathers. She nibbled his ear then went up next to Pig who was looking at her with great curiosity. She hooted and he hooted back. Harry the grabbed Pig and gave him the letter.

"Take Erika with you" he told him, Pig hooted and struggled free of Harry's grip, He hooted at Hedwig and Erika before flying out the window. Erika jumped up quickly and followed after him.

* * *

She followed him not for long when she was a large house in slight and outside were six red heads and one brunette, five boys and two girls, one of the girls were a brunette and the other was a red head. Erika flew towards them; she knew where she had to go now. She flew down just as Pig decided to drop, she quickly caught him by a talon and flew towards the shortest boy, she hooted. The shortest boy looked up in surprise.

"Hey is that Hedwig, carrying Pig?" he asked, Erika knew that voice anywhere it was one of her best friends, Ron Weasley. She landed not far away from them tired and exhausted. She collapsed looking up at the sky, she saw the red heads gather around her and Pig.

"Whose owl is that?" One of the older ones asked,

"I don't know Hermione?" Ron asked as he took the letter from the passed out owl, Erika was just staring up at them, watching their faces.

"Who would send two owls? It's not Hedwig because of the red tinge in its feathers but you only sent Pig to Harry" Ginny said, Erika hooted and they all looked down at her. She hopped up and flew up to Hermione's shoulder. Everyone raised their eyebrows.

"She likes Hermione then" The Twins said together, Erika hooted again and flew to George's shoulder.

"This owl is starting to freak me out" Ron said, once he read the letter. "And Harry said he can come and we are to get him on Sunday at five o'clock." Erika hooted again.

"What is it, you silly bird?" the other older one asked, Erika hooted then flew towards the house with everyone following her. Erika couldn't believe it, she was having so much fun mucking about with them.

"Mum, dad whose owl is this?" Ginny asked, Mrs Weasley came out from the kitchen and looked at Erika for a second.

"I'm not sure dear, whose letter did it deliver?" she asked.

"It delivered Pig, carrying a letter" Ron said handing Harry's letter over.

"Good, that's everyone then and Erika and Hailey are meeting you by the port-key" she said then went back inside. "By the way dears' tea's soon" she called, Erika gave a loud screech that made everyone jump.

"WHAT IS IT YOU DEMENTED BIRD?" Fred and George shouted. Erika hopped onto their shoulders and gave them each an affectionate nibble on the ear, she then went round and did that to the other boys, she rubber her head up against Hermione and Ginny's cheeks and flew off leaving them all very confused.

* * *

When Erika got home she hooted and Hailey ran out the back door and opened it for her.

"Erika, where have you been?" she shouted. "You've been gone for over a day you were only meant to be gone a couple of hours" she said, Erika grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down.

"I-Did-A-Job-For-Harry" she said gasping for breath. "I had to make sure his letter got to the Weasleys"

"Right, get up to your room and I hope I don't see you until it's time to go tomorrow morning" Hailey said pointing towards the stairs. Erika groaned.

"Mum" she whined.

"Erika Now" Hailey said crossly. Erika huffed and sulked up to her room.


	2. We meet Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch

_Chapter 2: We meet Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch_

Erika sighed as she got up on Monday morning, it was still dark. She groaned and looked at her clock, it read 4 AM. Erika and Hailey had to be at the woods by 5 AM to meet the Weasleys and the Diggorys for the port-key. Erika got her dark blue skinny jeans from the end of her bed and pulled them on, she then went to her cupboard and pulled out her black polo shirt and a long blue cardigan, grabbed her brown knee high boot and pulled them on over her jeans, she looked in the mirror and changed her hair a medium blonde, she waited a minute before she changed her eyes a sea blue. She grabbed her bag from the chair by the window and put her wand in her pocket. She went down stairs to see her mother sitting at the table reading the morning _Daily Prophet_ and drinking a cup of tea whilst her dishes were cleaning themselves.

"Morning mum" Erika said sitting down in her chair.

"Morning sweetheart, we have to go in about five minutes grab something to eat" Hailey said, looking up from her paper and smiling at her daughter. "If you want you can fly and I'll apperate taking your bag?" she said. Erika grinned at her mum.

"You know me too well" she said. Hailey sighed.

"No, I know your father and it sounds like a thing he would do" she said. "I like your hair this morning" she said, Erika smiled at her mum.

"Thanks mum" she said as she ate a banana. She finished the banana in a minute then stood up. "We've got to go now, right" she said, Hailey smiled at her.

"Yes, dear go on change" she said, Erika grinned at her and changed into an owl, she still had the red tinge to her feather. She hooted and flew to the window sill and tapped it with her beak. "Yes, I'll need to open that, I'll see you in about ten minutes then right" Hailey said, Erika hooted and flew out the now open window.

* * *

When she saw a group of about seven people most of them with red hair she flew down towards them, they were standing still. Erika then saw a dark brown head appear and she knew it was her mother's. She hooted and they all looked up, Fred, George and Ron moaned.

"Why is that mad bird here?" Ron asked, Erika hooted and flew onto her mum's shoulder.

"Hey, don't call her mad" Hailey said stroking Erika's feathers.

"She's not mad, she's just having fun" Harry said with a grin. Erika hooted at him and flew towards him she landed on his shoulder and rubbed his cheek with her head and nibbled his ear. "Missed you too" he said stroking her. Erika hooted and landed in front of them, they all looked at her to see what she was doing. Erika gave a loud screech which mad them all jump back in surprise, Erika took the opportunity and changed back to human form. All the Weasleys and Hermione were staring at her in amazement.

"Hiya" Erika said, and then gave Harry a hug.

"It was you" Ron said, Erika grinned at him.

"Yes and I'm not a demented bird thank you very much" she said with a huff. Fred and George grinned at her.

"You're an animagus" they said, Erika nodded then shook her head.

"Yes, but no, I'm also a metamorphosis and a shape shifter and I'm working on being able to hear peoples thought" she said grinning at their dumbstruck expressions.

"Right, well everyone let's get going" Mr Weasley said. They walked through the woods until they saw a man and seconds later a boy about 17 dropped down from a tree.

"Amos" Mr Weasley called.

"Arthur" 'Amos' said shaking hands. "About time boy"

"Sorry Amos, come of us had a sleepy start this morning" Mr Weasley explained looking back at Ron and Harry, Ron was yawning and Harry looked very tired. "Everyone, this is Amos Diggory he works with me at the ministry"

"All your's then?" Mr Diggory asked.

"No, no only the red heads" Mr Weasley said, Mr Diggory looked over at the other.

"Hailey" he said in surprise when he saw her. Hailey smiled at him kindly.

"Amos, I believe the last time I saw you was at my wedding" she said, Mr Diggory looked down.

"Yes, well _he_ wasn't right for you and you now know I'm right" he said,

"Thank you Amos" Hailey said "This is my daughter, Erika, her best friend, Hermione Granger, and Erika's boyfriend and my godson, Harry Potter" she said pushing each teenager forwards when she said their name. "And this must be your son Cedric" she said nodding at Cedric. Mr Diggory was looking at Harry with wide eyes.

"Oh, Erm, yes this is Cedric" he said patting Cedric's shoulder.

"We better get moving" Mr Weasley said.

"Right you are, Arthur, right you are" Mr Diggory said he shook Harry's hand. "Pleasure to meet you" he said "Cedric told me about how he beat you for the snitch in a game last year"

"Dad, Harry fell of his broom" Cedric protested.

"Well you don't need to ask who the better flyer is when one person falls of their broom and the other doesn't" he said.

"Amos" Mr Weasley called.

"Pleasure" Mr Diggory said to Harry again and went over to Mr Weasley.

"Sorry about him" Cedric said.

"It's fine" Harry muttered. Erika shook her head and took Harry's hand and pulled him towards the port-key

"Come on Harry" she said. "Nice to meet you Cedric"

"You too" Cedric said. They got to the port-key and lay in a circle round it and everyone put a hand on it except Harry.

"Alright everyone" Mr Weasley said "One-Two-Three, Harry" he said Harry quickly grabbed the boot as everyone felt the pulling sensation in their navels when you travelled by port-key. The world was spinning when Mr Weasley shouted at them "Let go kids" he shouted

"What?" Hermione asked surprised

"Let Go" Mr Weasley repeated, they did and they dropped through the air. They all landed on the ground with a hard thud, Erika groaned and rolled herself over ont he bc looking at the sky above her getting her breath back. She noticed a piece of her hair was in front of her face and it had gone back to red, she quickly changed it back to the blond.

"I bet that cleared you sinuses" Mr Weasley said, Hailey was laughing next to him and Cedric and Amos were smiling at them. Cedric ran over and helped Erika up.

"You ok?" he asked, Erika smiled and nodded and him.

"I'm fine thanks" she said, She noticed Harry was still on the ground as were most of the others. She went over to him with Cedric. "Come on Harry" she said and took one of his hands as did Cedric.

"Thanks" Harry told Cedric before Cedric went to catch up with the adults. Harry took Erika's hand and the two of them hurried to catch the other up.

They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; you could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some… We've been here all night… You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…" He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist.

After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, you could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggory's and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. By the look of him he was the only muggle for miles. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "Help me, Harry,"

he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now… So this is a five?"

"Oh, Arthur" Hailey sighed taking the money of him. "I'll do it" she said, quickly flipped through the money and gave the right amount to Mr. Roberts.

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts as he counted the money.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one's who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up…"

"Is that right?" said Hailey, her hand held out for the change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to her.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously

"It's like some sort of… I dunno… like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknotted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. The symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Hailey.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur." He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit… well… lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

"I remember when he played, James, Remus and…Sirius, wouldn't stop going on about him" Hailey said as they carried on walking.

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance.

A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders.

"Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult… Muggles do it all the time… Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

Harry and Hermione worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go and though Mr. Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using the mallet, they finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

All of them stood back to admire their handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of twelve. Mr. Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent. Hailey followed after him.

"We'll be a bit cramped," she called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the eight bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

"Yes, Poor Man I've been treating him for it" Hailey told him.

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water…"

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions.

"It's on the other side of the field." Erika said looking at the map. "Come on we could go and get it" she said.

"Good Idea Erika, you four. Hermione, Ron Harry and yourself go and the rest of us will get some wood for the fire" Mr Weasley said handing them the kettle and a couple of saucepans.

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation.

"When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, they could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. They made their way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.

Their fellow campers were starting to wake up. Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE. The four of them caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and but they couldn't understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names.

"Erika! Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnigan, their fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor. "Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" said Mrs. Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing Erika, Harry, Ron, and Hermione beadily.

When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze. The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

"Really grumpy?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Erika, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious –

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away. Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harry's House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team.

"That's great Oliver" Erika had said.

Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year.

Harry pointed out a large group of teenagers whom they had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil… this was years and years ago… and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

Hermione, looked utterly unsurprised by the information. No doubt she had run across the news about other wizarding schools in some book or other.

* * *

"You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "You've not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches and he won't let Hailey help" said Fred.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. Hailey on the other hand was sitting in a chair sideways with her arms crossed glaring at Mr. Weasley's back.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's, Erika's and Hermione's benefit; his own children and knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office… Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now… Hello, Arnie… Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know… and that's Bode and Croaker… they're Unspeakables…"

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…"

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them.

"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!" Hailey's eyes widened and she quickly dropped her plate.

"Mum, you alright?" Erika asked, Hailey didn't say anything but nodded.

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person any of them had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed, but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements… Not much for me to do!" He then noticed Hailey. "Well, well, well, Miss Hailey Noir, what a pleasure it is to see you again" he said kissing her hand. Hailey gave Ludo a strained smile.

"Thank you Ludo, I remember when you actually played in those robes" she said nodding her head at his ensemble.

Behind Ludo, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah - yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Hailey's daughter Erika Noir."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets -"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes.

"I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh… go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well… any other takers?"

"I'll give you ten Galleons" Hailey said handing Ludo the money. He nodded.

"Good doing business with you" he said "Anyone else?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting… That's all your savings… Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance… I'll give you excellent odds on that one… We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…"

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages." Hailey's eyes narrowed and she stood up.

"Right I'm going to go inside and start on that tea then" she said quickly.

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…"

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha… memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Hailey can out and handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. Anyone could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; Harry doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him. "Hailey move up a bit, will you" he said, Hailey however did not move, she glared at Mr. Crouch.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle. Hailey stood and told him she'd do it.

"Go on Percy, you go talk with them, I'll do it for him" she said kindly.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Hailey. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun… Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to took forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"Why were you glaring at Mr. Crouch?" Harry asked Hailey, Hailey sighed.

"I'd rather not tell you right now" she said.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said , smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

* * *

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared,

flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action… slow everything down… and they flash up a play-by- play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry had much more money than he did.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning. "Who are the others for?" he asked, Harry turned and gave them to Erika who was about to buy her own.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look -"

"Oh, Harry you didn't have to get me them" Erika said giving him a quick kiss.

Their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold. Erika had however brought three green rosettes and she gave one each to Fred and George.

"Thanks Erika" They said together. She grinned at them. She then proceeded to turn herself green, Hair and skin.

Then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. "Come on, let's go!"


	3. Ierland vs Bulgaria

_Chapter 3: Ireland vs. Bulgaria_

Erika walked hand in hand with Harry, everyone clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead as they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Erika noticed that Harry couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though you could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, anyone could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again… bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at their eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, they saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer… Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!… Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade…

Erika was talking with Hermione until she heard Harry ask

"Dobby?" incredulously, she turned her head to see who he was talking to. She had been quiet interested to hear about harry's friend, Dobby, the house elf.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby – it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and this one was female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf.

She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "Ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, looking taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," Harry said.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," Harry told them fervently.

"Poor Dobby though not being able to find any more work because he wants to be paid" Erika said sadly. Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again… and again… and again…"

"Charming Ron" Erika said rolling her eyes and going to look at the program Hermione was skimming through.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'" Hermione read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards, Whilst Hailey smiled at them and had lots of Kisses on the back of her hand. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered.

Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. As they had met before, Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English.

"Harry Potter… oh come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You-Know-Who… you do know who he is -"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat… Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places… ah, and here's Lucius!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly, Erika didn't she just kept looking down at the pitch but narrowed her eyes slightly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and Narcissa; his wife. Narcissa was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose, you wouldn't have though she was related to Erika or her father.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay? And Hailey Noir?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row. While Mrs Malfoy, looked at Hailey with raised eye brows.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Hailey however cut in.

"Lovely to see you again, Narcissa, Lucius. It seems I'm seeing a lot of people from my wedding today, you crashed it didn't you?" she said stopping Mr Malfoy from making a remark about Hermione.

However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Erika, Harry, Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Erika, Harry, and Hermione turned to face the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming and looking down towards the pitch in excitement. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel -?" Harry started

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women… except that they weren't human. Erika noticed the puzzled look on Harry's face for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind… but then the music started, Harry's puzzled expression dropped.

The veela had started to dance, Erika was glaring at them whilst Hailey was shaking her head.

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through male dazed minds. They all wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea… but would it be good enough? A lot of them were thinking.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Erika asked surprised as the music stopped. Harry was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Erika laughed and cheered. The males looked at her, she raised her eye brows.

"What? I can make myself look like that" she said, "Besides that's what Veela do, they charm you" Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring open mouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Ron back into his seat. "Honestly!" she said. Erika grabbed Harry and did the same.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, They realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Erika looked at him herself through her Omnioculars.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; Erika noticed that they all had Firebolts like Harry's and their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a extremely large moustache, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

Everyone watched closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch.

With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as none of them had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honor around the field.

Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily, as play resumed and within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the greenclad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears boys!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. All the boys did as he said and Harry screwed up his eyes too.

After about thirty seconds the veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Everyone followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was –

"They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Oooo, that's go to hurt" Erika said squinting to see if he was alright.

"Fool!" moaned Hailey. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking extremely worried. "Which is what Krum was after, of course…"

Krum was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Krum's dark eyes were darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything any of them had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals.

They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling. Erika was there next to Harry giggling as well.

"Look, look, look" she said through her laughter.

Everyone looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; watching through the Omnioculars again, people saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before… Oh this could turn nasty…"

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. "Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. The Veela didn't look beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruelbeaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -

"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians.

The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov - The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

Harry started shouting. "Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Look at Lynch!" Hailey yelled suddenly.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing…

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!" Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was on his tail. There were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again –

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And he was right – for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"Merlin, those vella…" Erika called.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row.

"He's got it – Krum's got it – it's all over!" shouted Harry.

"YAY" Erika yelled kissing Harry. "We won, we won" she shouted jumping up and down hugging him.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good… He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all…

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess…"

His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

"WOW" Erika said, "We actually get to see it, the actual Quidditch World Cup, Gosh"

Suddenly there was a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, they saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; you could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. When Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Everyone's hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely,

"A really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer… Ah yes… yes, I owe you… how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

"Boy's" Erika muttered, Hailey laughed and went to get her money from Ludo.

"Money, now Ludo" she said, he fished in his pockets and gave her it. Fred and George kept at him, but he told them he'd get it to them.

"We won" Erika said smiling at Harry, He smiled at her.

"Yes we did" he said before kissing her. Erika was taken by surprise; you would hear most of the stands gasp. The two of them then remembered that the stadium could see into their box. Erika blushed and Harry cringed.

"Super" he muttered into her hair as he hugged her.

"It'll be fine" she said. "I'm sure dad will have a laugh" She whispered to him. He chuckled.


	4. Dark Marks aren't good Harry

_Chapter 4: Dark Mark's aren't good Harry_

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley had told Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for that money. We don't want it confiscated." Mr. Weasley, for a second, looked as if he was going to ask when those plans were. They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns and loud happy singing could be heard. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed.

Hermione, Erika and Ginny went with Hailey into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pyjamas and clambered into their bunks.

From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

All the girls had fallen asleep when Mr. Weasley came in shouting.

"Get up! Hailey, Erika, Hermione, Ginny this is urgent!" Hailey was up in a matter of second and waved her wand and was changed she did the same for the girls and they all had their clothes on they were wearing for the match.

"What's happened, Arthur?" Hailey asked.

The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. There were screams, and the sound of people running.

"It's _Them, _it's Death Eaters" he said. Hailey nodded silently, gripping her wand more tightly, and the five of them rushed outside. The light of the few fires that were still burning. People running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.

Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Their heads were hooded and their faces masked.

High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.

Two of the figures were very small they looked to be children. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice one of the marchers would blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent, it was poor Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick…"

Hermione, Erika and Ginny came hurrying toward them, with Mr. Weasley and Hailey right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Hailey gave every single one of them (Yes, EVERY single one, all the boys) a kiss on the cheek before running after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. Erika quickly changed her hair black so she could blend in. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air.

Then Ron yelled with pain.

"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her and Erika into him. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid - lumos!"

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Erika, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed.

His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees. Ron told Malfoy to do something that they all knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," said Malfoy. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around… they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron as Erika launched herself at Malfoy. Who started screaming like a little girl. It took Harry and Ron to lift her off him.

"Never mind" said Hermione, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

"Well… if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Oh come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go and find the others."

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Malfoy.

"Come on," Erika said, and she pulled Hermione, Harry and Ron up the path.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Erika, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly,

"Oü est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"

"Er - what?" said Ron.

"Oh…" The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, "Ogwarts."

"Beauxbatons," muttered Hermione.

"Sorry?" said Harry.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Hermione. "You know… Beauxbatons Academy of Magic… I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."

"Oh… yeah… right," said Harry.

"I'll help them I can speak French" Erika said and walked towards the group of girls

"Vous êtes à la recherche de Madame Maxime, non?" (You are looking for Madame Maxime, right?) The girl that came over to them eyes widened.

"Oui, vous l'avez vue? S'il vous plaît nous dire, nous sommes perdus!" (Yes, have you see her?, please tell us, we are lost!) Erika shook her head.

"Désolé." Erika said shaking her head. "Non, nous n'avons pas vu elle, Mes amis et moi sommes à la recherche pour nos autres amis, mais j'espère que vous la trouvez." (Sorry.)* Shaking head* (No, we have not seen her, my friends and I are looking for our other friends, but I hope you find her) The girl nodded sadly.

"Eh bien, merci d'avoir essayé. J'espère que vous trouverez vos amis aussi." she said. "Au revoir" (Well, thank you for trying. I hope you find your friends as well, Goodbye) she then walked back to her friends. Erika sighed and went back to Hermione, Harry and Ron, who were looking at her with surprised expressions on her face. Erika grinned.

"What? Mum and me used to go to france a lot on holiday's before I came to Hogwarts" she said shrugging.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it… I've lost my wand!" Harry suddenly said.

"You're kidding!" Ron said, more like whined. The three with wands held theirs up and Harry searched for his, no luck.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," Erika said, taking Harry's hand trying to comfort him.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.

"Yeah," said Harry, "maybe…"

A rustling noise nearby made all four of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Harry.

"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match… 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'… that's what she likes, being bossed around…"

"It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "Who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -"

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, Harry and Erika saw him glance edgily at Hermione. Perhaps there was truth in what Malfoy had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than they were.

They set off again, Harry still searching his pockets, even though he knew his wand wasn't there. They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron… but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -"

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."

Next to Erika Harry snorted with laughter. They recognized the pimply wizard: His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus.

"No you're not Stan you're the conductor for the knight bus, saying that why don't you get Ernie to give you a lift outa' here" Erika shouted at him. Erika turned and grinned at the three and she noticed Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"

"Honestly!" said Hermione, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away with Erika following shaking her head. By the time the sounds of the veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

Harry looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.

Even by the feeble light of the three wands, anyone could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

They looked at one another, surprised.

"Well - there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron.

Bagman stared at him.

"What?"

"At the campsite… some people have got hold of a family of Muggles…"

Bagman swore loudly.

"Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop!

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" said Hermione, frowning.

"He was a great Beater, though," said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."

He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over. Erika was pacing, muttering to herself.

"I hope the others are okay," said Hermione after a while.

"They'll be fine," said Ron.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," said Harry, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right," said Ron.

"Those poor Muggles, though," said Hermione nervously. "What if they can't get them down?"

"They will," said Erika reassuringly. "They'll find a way."

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Hermione. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just -"

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry.

There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but they could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of vision.

"Who's there?" he said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!" Erika gasped and stumbled back into Harry as something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the -?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared. It was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. Harry didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" he called again.

"Harry, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"Voldemort's - Harry, come on!" Erika said pulling on him, a few tears were falling down her face.

Harry turned - Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum - the three of them started across the clearing - but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Ron, Hermione and Erika.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, "DUCK!"

He seized two and pulled them down onto the ground, Erika was not so lucky, she was hit and crumpled to the floor.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness—

"Stop!" yelled a voice he recognized. "STOP! That's my son!"

"Erika" another voice yelled, it was female and the three of them awake recognised it. Hailey. Oh no, now they were in trouble, Hailey was very protective of Erika.

Harry's hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.

"Ron - Harry" - his voice sounded shaky - "Hermione - are you all right? Where's Erika?" he asked, The three teens looked over and the crumpled body on the floor.

"Erika was hit when you all tried to stun us" Hermione said shakily. Hailey went to Erika and turned her over, Erika was deathly pale and was breathing extremely slowly.

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to."

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" said Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees… they shouted words – an incantation –"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy -"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees… There's a good chance we got them…

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth. A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - blimey..

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Harry recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," he said jerkily. "No -"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf… I mean to say…"

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."

"What?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?" and then Erika as well. "What happened to _her_?" he asked.

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has, as has this girl, been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why -?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself." Suddenly, they heard a scream of rage and Hailey went over to Mr. Crouch.

"MY DAUGHTER'S BEEN STUNNED BY YOUR STUNNERS, WHEN SHE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU SAY FOR YOURSELF?" she shouted, Mr. Crouch took a step back to get away from the en-raged Hailey Noir.

"Madame, please control yourself, she'll be alright" he said.

"SHE'S NOT ALRIGHT, I'VE TRIED TO WAKE HER UP YOU POMPUS IDIOT" she screeched. "YOU HIT HER WITH A GOOD FIVE STUNNERS, YOU DO KNOW THAT CAN KILL A PERSON" she said, she raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards and witches, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Harry could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr. Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognized it.

"Hey - that's mine!" he said

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" said Harry. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"And he's my godson" Hailey snapped patting Harry's shoulder.

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mr. Diggory. "Sorry, Hailey… carried away…"

"Yes Amos, well don't" Hailey snapped from where she had gone back to the ground with Erika.

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is… I is… I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same.

"Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr. Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," said Mr. Weasley loudly, "think about it… precious few wizards know how to do that spell… Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch… not… not at all."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter – and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere… Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I - I is finding it… finding it there, sir…" she whispered, "there… in the trees, sir."

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir… no one…"

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to Harry that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master…" Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please…"

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please -"

Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on, you three," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. "Hailey can you get Erika back to the tent?" he asked, Hailey nodded. She tapped Erika's head and Erika floated off the ground, Hailey glared at each and every person there before she took her daughter's hand and pulled her gently after the other out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time… and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way -"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite. Hailey followed silently behind them, many people gave her sympathetic looks as she passed with Erika.

All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -"

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him. Hailey followed them in.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bed sheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.

"ERIKA" They all shouted when they saw her unconscious with Hailey pulling her in.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply looking at Erika. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr. Crouch's elf" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to… embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry… how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone… Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean… it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired… you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside…" Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear… the very worst."

"Happened to me once" Hailey said, everyone turned to look at her. "I was living with Sirius, not long before we were married, I was only nineteen, and I went over to my parents house, they wanted to talk to me or give me something. I was running late when I apperated there and I stood at the end of the drive to that big old house and the house was nearly in ruins." She took a deep breath. "I ran as fast as I could, I was just quick enough to just catch a glimpse of black robes before they, whoever they were, disapperated, I walked into their study and there they were. My mother, Father, older sister and my little brother. To this day I still think what would have happened if I had been on time, would I be dead, would they all still be alive…" She shook her head and turned back to looking at Erika. Everyone took that for the end of the conversation.

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Everybody but Hailey flinched – like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. "Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives… I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…" said Hermione slowly. "Were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this… it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now… Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here. But first we need to get Erika to wake" he said turning to Hailey.

"Hailey, will she be ok?" he asked, Hailey looked up at him, unshed tears were in her eyes, she was kneeling on the ground stroking Erika's head.

"I don't know, I really don't know, In all the years I've worked at St. Murgos I've never had someone hit by about five stunners, it's enough to killed them." She explained, "But she still breathing so she isn't dead, I'll try one more time, then if that doesn't work I'll take her to Murgos" she said and pointed her wand at Erika, she took a deep breath and collected her concentration and her magic. "Ennervate!" she ordered, you could hear the power behind her voice as Erika woke with a start her eyes wide and breathing heavily.

"Ah, my head" she gasped. Hailey let a breath out and she looked at the three older boys. "Boys come here, I'll heal you" she said, they came over and Hailey waved her wand over the cuts and they healed.

"Thanks, Hailey" they all said, before going back to their beds.

"What happened? Why am I back in the tent?" Erika asked confused.

"You were hit with a good lot of stunners" Hermione explained. Erika nodded.

"Yeah, I remember Harry shouted 'DUCK' I was about to then I saw red and everything went black" she said.

"Yes, well you're fine now" Hailey said. "You'll probably have a headache for a couple of days" she told her, "But I'll make you a potion for it" she said.

"Thanks mum" she said. "Can I go back to sleep?" she asked, before anyone could answer Erika fell asleep on the sofa.

"She won't have" George said.

"Trouble sleeping tonight" Fred carried on.

"Will she?" They both finished, Hailey shook her head.

"She'll be fine, Come on let's get some sleep for a couple of hours, then we can all get the port-key back then" Mr Weasley said putting a hand on Hailey's shoulder.

"You're right, Arthur. Come on girls" she said. She looked down at Erika. "I think I would be wise of me to leave her there" she said, Mr. Weasley nodded.

"She'll be fine Hailey, We'll all look after her" Mr Weasley assured her. Hailey nodded and smiled.

"Thank you"

* * *

Hey,

I Hope you all liked this chapter, I know, I know, it's been ages, Well I've been really ill and I also worked ahead and finished this story and I'm now onto the next one in the series, Well give us a review, it'd be much appreciated, and remember to have fun in your lives, Bye,

-Becky


	5. Going Home and Getting Dress Robes

Hey everyone, sorry I haven't updated in such a long time, I've been meaning to but I've been working on other pieces of work, which I'm not sure I'm going to upload. Well I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Oh and DISCLAIMER: I do not own _**ANYTHING**_ out of Harry Potter, that means, Harry, his friend, enemies, places or anything of the sort. Well now that's done, ON WITH THE STORY...

_Chapter 5: Going Home and Getting Dress Robes_

Mr. Weasley and Hailey woke everyone up only after a few hours sleep and the two of them quickly used magic to pack up the tent, when they walked past Mr. Roberts he had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Happy Christmas."

"Don't worry he'll be fine soon enough." Hailey said.

"He'll be all right," Mr. Weasley said quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while… and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a massive number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and longing for their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, they all saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive… Oh boys…" And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred… George…"

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley trying to calm her down and prise her off the twins to lead her back into the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…"

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace… Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"

"Do us a favour, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."

"I think I'm going to take Erika home, Molly she was hit with numerous stunners" Hailey said standing up and putting her tea cup on the table.

"Oh dear, sit her down" Mrs Weasley said pulling Erika towards a chair.

"No Molly, its fine. We'll see you in a few days at the train station, got to go to Diagon alley tomorrow we need to get Erika's things for this year" Hailey stopped Mrs Weasley coddling Erika.

"Alright, dear" Mrs Weasley said, looking slightly upset.

"Thanks, Molly see you soon" Hailey said smiling. "Say bye to everyone, Erika" Erika sighed and went over to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"Bye, Hermione see you on the train" Erika said hugging Hermione.

"Yeah, Start of fourth year" Hermione said smiling.

"Yep" Erika gave Ron a hug next, who was shocked.

"See you in a couple of days" she said.

"You too" he stuttered. Erika turned to Harry and took his hand; she looked over at her mum.

"Mum, can I say bye to Harry outside?" she asked, Hailey smiled knowingly at her.

"Sure, but back in within five minutes" she said, Erika nodded and took Harry outside.

"I'm going to miss you" she said. Harry brushed a piece of hair from her cheek.

"I'll miss you too" he said, Erika smiled at him and pulled him closer to her.

"I think I'm going to miss doing this" She then kissed him soundly on the lips. When they broke apart they hugged for a few minutes.

"I'll see you on the train" Harry said. Erika gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, I wonder what we'll get up to this year." Erika joked.

"Don't say that, something will happen" Harry groaned. Erika just grinned at him and they went back inside.

"Ready to go?" Hailey asked,

"Yes, mum" Erika said, Hailey smiled at everyone before taking Erika's arm.

"Bye" Erika looked over at her friends just as her mum apperated.

They arrived home in their kitchen, to find two males sitting at the table with cups of tea each. They both stood up as soon as the females caught their balance.

"Erika, Hailey" They both said and the two females were hugged.

"Oof" Hailey said as she was hugged.

"Let me go" Erika shouted, the two men stood back and Erika got a good look at them, it was her godfather, Remus Lupin and her father, Sirius Black.

"Dad" she shouted hugging him. Sirius hugged her back, whilst Remus gave Hailey a proper hug.

"Erika, are you alright? I heard about the world cup, what happened?" Sirius asked, Hailey pulled him away from Erika and kissed him.

"Death Eaters and the dark mark" she said

"WHAT?" Remus shouted. You could hear the wolf in him now. "Was there no security? And who was killed? Did we know them?" he asked.

"No" Hailey said tiredly. "No-one was killed and yes there was a great deal of security" she said.

"What happened with Erika and Harry while you were of after the death eaters?" Sirius asked

"They went into the woods to hide, with the twins, Ron, Hermione and Ginny." Hailey asked "Didn't stop Erika being stunned though" she muttered after, but both males with their canine hearing picked it up.

"Erika was stunned why?" Remus asked.

"Stupid Barty Crouch, had stunners sent at them, Harry got Hermione and Ron to duck in time, but Erika wasn't as quick, she was hit with a good five"

"BARTY CROUCH" Sirius shouted. "You mean Barty 'No-heart' Crouch?" he asked.

"That's him"

"He had stunners hit my baby girl?" Hailey nodded.

"If you don't mind I'm off to go and commit my murder" Sirius said standing up. Erika grabbed his arm.

"Daddy, look I'm ok. I'm fine, see" she said, Sirius looked down at her.

"Yeah, I guess you are" he said and hugged her. Erika only ever called him 'daddy' when she was sacred, trying to calm him down, worried, upset or she was telling him she loved him.

"I now know where I get my temper from" Erika said, Sirius laughed.

"Yeah, sorry about that" he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

"I've learnt to live with it" Hailey said smirking. "Come on, bed Erika, we're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow"

"Ok, I am kind of tired" Erika said "Bye Dad, Bye Remus" she said giving them each a kiss on the cheek and going up stairs.

"Have you told her yet?" Remus asked.

"No" Hailey said.

"You haven't told her that you're going to be at Hogwarts for some of the year?" Sirius asked indecorously.

"No, she'll find out when she gets there"

"Ah, well your choice but I think you should tell her" Remus said "I was right when I thought you should have told her about Sirius here"

"Remus, Shut up" Hailey said annoyed. Sirius started laughing.

"What's so funny Sirius?" Remus asked.

"The two of you, it's just so funny" Sirius laughed. Hailey rolled her eyes.

"Great, now if you don't mind I'm going to bed, I didn't get much sleep last night" she said standing up and going towards the door. "Lock the doors when you leave" she said over her shoulder.

"Good night, Hailey" Remus said at the same time Sirius said.

"Night' Hails"

"Sweet dreams boys" she called.

Erika came down stairs after sleeping nearly twenty four hours to find her father fast asleep on the sofa, she walked over to him and sat down.

"Dad, wake up" she said quietly nudging him.

"Erika don't bother, no one can wake your father up" Hailey said coming into the room.

"Actually Erika woke me up" Sirius said startling the two females. "Good morning" he said yawning and stretching.

"Morning Sirius" Hailey said giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I thought you were leaving last night?" she said airily.

"I was too tired, so I lay down on the sofa and the next thing I know I hear you telling Erika the no one can wake me up" he said.

"Well, we've got to go in an hour or so to get Erika's stuff for school"

"Ah, yes dress robes this year, I remember the dress robes you wore" Sirius said with a dreamy look on his face.

"Shhhh" Hailey hissed hitting Sirius upside the head.

"Ow, woman" he said rubbing where she hit him.

"What are you two talking about?" Erika asked raised her eyes brows.

"Nothing" Hailey said nervously her voice going an octave higher.

"Fine" Erika said going into the kitchen and getting a bowl of cereal.

"It's going to be an exciting year, Hailey" Sirius said standing up.

"What are you going to be doing?" she asked

"I think I'm going to go to France" Sirius said grinning at her.

"France?"

"Yep France, good hiding place" he said, Hailey smiled at him and gave him a hug.

"Love you Sirius" she said, Sirius put his arms round her and held her tight.

"I Love you too Hailey" he said, He gave her a long kiss.

"Quit it you two" Erika said coming into the room. She went over to her mother and father and pulled them into a group hug. "See you soon Dad" she said.

"Yeah, see you soon" Sirius said and changed into a dog. Hailey opened the patio door for him to leave.

"Love you Sirius" she said again and gave him a scratch behind the ear. He barked and licked her hand. "Off you go now" Sirius barked again and ran off.

"I'm going to miss him" Erika said giving her mum a hug.

"Me too dear, me too" Hailey said.

The two of them walked down Diagon Alley their arms full of bags. They had got everything for school now except Erika's robes, her school ones and dress ones.

"Madame Malkin's next, Erika" Hailey said as she shrunk the bags to fit in her pocket.

"Oooo Yay dress robes" Erika said and hurried towards the shop.

"Erika calm down" Hailey called as she went after her.

"Hello, Madame Malkin" Erika said as she walked into the store.

"Oh, Hello Erika dear, where's your mother?" Madame Malkin asked as Hailey came through the shop door.

"There" Erika said. Madame Malkin let out a short laugh.

"Very good, I expect you're here for your robes for Hogwarts" she said,

"Yes, ma' am"

"Gryffindor and you'll want to choose some dress robes, am I correct?" Madame Malkin asked.

"Yep, thank you" Erika said smiling and nodding.

It was a couple of hours later when Erika was standing in the back room of Madame Malkin's looking at all the dress robes. She sighed and flopped down on a chair in the corner.

"I don't know, because I don't know what colour robes Harry's going to wear" she said "Mum could you apperate over to The Burrow and find out for me?" she asked, Hailey looked at her daughter for a moment before sighing and nodding.

"I'll be back in a minute" she said before with a pop she was gone.

Hailey appeared just outside the front door to The Burrow. She opened to door slowly.

"Hello, Molly? Kids?" she called, she heard a saucepan clatter to the floor then someone muttering something and seconds later Molly Weasley appeared in the doorway.

"Hailey come on in, do you want a cup of tea?" she asked, Hailey smiled but shook her head.

"No actually, I'm here on a mission from my daughter" she said shaking her head and smiling, When she saw the look of confusion on Molly's face she elaborated. "I need to know what colour Harry's dress robes are?" she asked "Erika doesn't want hers to clash with his" she explained, "So I've left her in Madame Malkin's while I came here and found out" Molly smiled and nodded.

"They are plain black with a white shirt and a black bow tie, he's going to look dashing" Molly gushed, Hailey smiled at Molly.

"Thank you so much, we'll see you in two days at the train, Bye" she said

"Bye" Molly said Hailey apperated away.

Erika was fiddling with her nails as her mother appeared in front of her.

"Black with a black bow tie" Hailey said before Erika could get a word out. Erika grinned at hugged her mother.

"Thanks mum" she said and practically dove back into the racks. "Found it" she called and came back to her mum holding a dress. Hailey looked at the dress and nodded.

"I think it will look lovely go try it on" she said, Erika nodded and went into the changing room. She came back out and Hailey's eye widened. "You look beautiful, he's a very lucky boy" she said, Erika smiled at her mum.

"Thanks mum" she said before she went back into the changing room. She came out with the dress in her arms. "Let's pay" she said "and then we can go home" Hailey nodded, she handed the money over to Madame Malkin who smiled at them.

"I hope who ever sees you in that jaws drop" she said, Erika smiled at her.

"Thanks Madame Malkin" she said, Madame Malkin nodded and smiled at her.

"Goodbye, Hailey, Erika" she said, The two other females said goodbye and went back home. Erika went straight up stairs to pack, her excitement for the school year at a all time high.


	6. We Learn About The Year

_I would like to thank 'dream llightning' for giving me to inspiration and the kick up the ass I need to update this story and my Narnia one, so thank you, my friend. _

_I would also like to use this moment to say I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANTHING RELATED TO IT, THANK YOU!_

_Chapter 6: We learn about the Year_

The next morning Erika was standing by the barrier to platform nine and three quarters waiting for her friends soon they appeared next to her and the three of them said Hello to each other and moved further onto the platform. The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist, it was as if he was shouting hello to all the other owls. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Hailey.

"Me and Hailey might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it… it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, he was looking at the train wistfully.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Hailey said grinning.

"I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it." Bill added, as he shared a look with Hailey.

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley and Hailey chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but… well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with… one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you all know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Erika, Fred, and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you… Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Hailey, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had disapparated; Leaving Hailey smiling at them waving.

"I'll see you lot soon" she called before winking and dissapperating.

"Well they've all lost it" Erika said simply. Making the others smile.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika went to their compartment.

The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what —"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Erika and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"… Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…"

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice. Erika rolled her eyes.

"Git." she said, Harry laughed and hugged her close.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" Hermione said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that… well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you, then," said Ron.

"Hey I read it!" Erika protested "Once..." she added. "But it was more like skimming it..." she added after an afterthought.

"So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" Ron said ignoring Erika.

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Er… if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident… Shame his mother likes him…"

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.

Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" but in a very feeble, exhausted sort of way and he and Dean kept trying to flirt with Erika, much to Harry's annoyance. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville…" He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley… what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety…

"Bugger off Malfoy!" Erika shouted and pointed her wand at him.

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the maroon dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? And you Black your own mothers part of it. My God, my father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…"

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them turned to walk out of the compartment. Erika had enough; she launched herself of Harry's lap and tackled Malfoy to the floor.

"Take it all back!" she shouted at him, Malfoy was squealing like a girl again and Crabbe and Goyle were trying to grab Erika, she however kept moving and was too quick for them. Eventually Malfoy shrieked extremely loud.

"Fine I take it back, now get off me you psychotic Bitch!" he shouted, Erika got up off him and waited for him to stand he did and she slapped him before he could say anything.

"GET OUT!" she shouted, he nodded and he and his thugs disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door. Erika slumped back down on Harry's lap and sighed.

"Well… making it look like he knows everything and we don't…" Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'… Dad could've got a promotion any time… he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me! As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Erika and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards Hogwarts Castle.

MThrough the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Anyone could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Erika and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Erika laughed and let herself get soaking wet.

Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch – I'm sorry, Miss Granger -"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semi-transparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

"Oh, Harry Lighten up a bit," Erika said giving him a smile. "Hello Nick!" she said smiling at the ghost.

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," said Harry.

"That's great Colin." Erika said kindly.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick.

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"Dad was a Gryffindor and, his brother, Regulas was a Slytherin."

Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Everyone's favorite by far, well not the Slytherins, had been Professor Lupin who had resigned last year. They looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose – Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days.

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, Hermione and Erika were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.

When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, 'I fell in the lake!' and he looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Harry could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming – a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide— -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as

"Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry, Ron, Fred and George loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly.

"What did he do to the kitchens?" Erika asked

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—"

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention, as Erika tried to stop it with her napkin.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning… see to the fires and so on… I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

And she refused to eat another bite.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"NO" Erika shouted along with a few others.

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.

This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Erika, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to — oops…"

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.

"Night Harry" Erika said giving him a kiss on the cheek and running up the stairs. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up them with a goofy smile on his face. He, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it.

"Mental," Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players.

Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pyjamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.

"I might go in for it, you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to… the tournament… you never know, do you?"

"S'pose not…"

Harry rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his mind's eye… He had hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing he was seventeen… he had become Hogwarts champion… he was standing on the grounds, his arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming… he had just won the Triwizard Tournament. He could see Erika grinning at him and she was saying something, but Harry couldn't tell what. He then drifted off into oblivion.


End file.
